Not Your Phantom
by SweetWillowTree
Summary: "And don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore?" Damon's reflections throughout season 2. By request, and inspired by The Phantom of The Opera.
1. How Raoul Became Erik

**A/N: Herein lies the first part of Not Your Phantom. This story was requested by a good friend of mine, with the description: "To 'Jar of Hearts'; With Damon and Elena, from Damon's POV, and he's the monster." I have to admit, it's a little tricky with the POV, but I think I managed a pretty fair gymnastic feat with it.**

**Please review and let me know what you think! I'm really shaky about this, more nervous about it than any other story I've done.**

**Song lyrics belong to Christina Perri. Made for fun, not for profit!**

(Set During The Return (2X01)

_I know I can't take one more step towards you; 'Cause all that's waiting is regret._

It's been a hell of a day. Katherine's back and the chaos that she brings has already begun. And I know that I should hate her; I do hate her. But there's still a part of me that wishes that she would walk up and smile at me, like she did a hundred and forty five years ago.

I slam the door of the boarding house, trying to focus on the copious amounts of alcohol that I plan on imbibing, hoping to quell that particularly sentimental desire. I am no longer the lovesick fool that she left behind. I'm a monster.

My daily mask melts away with every step that I take toward what is now my sole comfort. It will eradicate all thoughts of her; it will purge her from my memory, for at least a few hours.

And right on cue, she's there, on the couch, as if she belonged there. As if she belonged with me.

I freeze. I know that I shouldn't react. I should leave; I should walk away from her and forget about everything. Haven't I already learned my lesson? Haven't I already suffered enough at her hands?

_And don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore?_

I'm surprised that there truly is a part of me that is unaffected by her presence. The mask is too easy to slide back on, shielding my most vulnerable and damaged self from her. It's a shock that strikes me, like lightning, right between my eyes.

Granted, the majority of my heart and mind is _begging_ to walk into her arms and lose myself in her forever.

But I am no longer her Damon, her demon. I generally recoiled from the easy comparison between my name and my title, but this time, it was scarily accurate. It was what I had become, because of her. But I wouldn't lay my transgressions at her feet, waiting like a dog for her approval or disdain.

No, there was someone else who had taken that post. Someone who had slipped in so swiftly and silently; who, without accusation or aggression, had removed Katherine from the pedestal and taken up residence there.

I was no longer Katherine's demon; I was Elena's.

_You lost the love I loved the most. And I learned to live half-alive. And now you want me one more time…_

And while I no longer felt any fidelity for Katherine, she was, indeed, the one who had stoked this fire. She was the one that I had loved, and who I thought had loved me. She was the only one in my entire life who had ever made me feel like I belonged. And then she turned Stefan too; and then she was dead; and then she wasn't. But she was still gone.

And I had built a new life around that loss. I had constructed a mask to hide my deformities, the hideous traces left by her. I had learned to live without her next to me. I had carved myself a place amongst the monsters of the world; all the while carrying her with me, and living my life as we had planned. But it was only a half-life. I was alone.

And now, here she is, pressed up against me, speaking in the seductive tones that I remember from so long ago, and my mask is so close to fading away. Finally, after years of waiting, after all of the pain and abandonment, she is in my grasp. But she's right: Do I kiss her or kill her?

I make a vital mistake. I drop the mask. I walk into the trap.

I kiss her.

_Who do you think you are? Running 'round, leaving scars; Collecting your jar of hearts; And tearing love apart._

And after she whispers those words, those hated words that I've heard all too often; after she reveals her _undying_ love for _Stefan_, she's gone. And I am right back where I started.

But at least I have the head start. I know what she does now. And the bitterness sets in a century and a half sooner than before. The mask is back where it should be, and its familiarity soothes my tender scar tissue, reopened and bleeding.

Who does Katherine Pierce think that she is? Why won't she just end me? Why must she strike to burn, and not to kill?

_You're gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul. So don't come back for me. Who do you think you are?_

I see her now for what she truly is. And she won't fool me again. Her warmth has dissipated, and finally relinquished the hold that she had on my heart. I miss it.

I pour myself a drink, and another, and another. I try to find the warmth at the bottom of the bottle. Then, I remember.

I remember where the true warmth is. I remember where the light is. I remember that the light has a name.

Elena.


	2. How Erik Loved Christine

**A/N: Here goes part two! To avoid confusion, I'd like to point out that this chapter details Damon's reflections _during_ the episode Daddy Issues, but they are about events from the end of The Return to the 'present'.**

**Song lyrics from Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri. I own nothing but my cats.**

* * *

><p><span>(Set During Daddy Issues (2X13))<span>

_I hear you're asking all around if I am anywhere to be found._

In the weeks after I had done The Unforgivable, Elena was everywhere. She claimed to be avoiding me, and yet I saw her peering over her shoulder and around corners, meeting my eyes and glancing away a second too late. I know why. She was desperate. She is desperate to believe in my redemption; to see the man within the monster; the monster behind the mask.

And so, she hunted me down, secretly and furtively, until enough time had passed that she was able to rescind her hasty offer of eternal hatred. And yet, she is still there, waiting.

The mask slips around her constantly. But her back is turned at all the wrong moments.

_But I have grown too strong to ever fall back in your arms._

But I will not give in to her. I love her and crave her and need her, and it overwhelms me, it drowns me. I cannot expose her to my face. I cannot lay my soul bare before her. The skin, still so raw from Katherine's final blow, is too offensive to be revealed in her presence. And part of her knows that. She is afraid of what she might see.

She understands, much to my dismay, that I am too layered for simple comprehension. I have become too diseased and sick by my own actions to ever show my true face. The mask is now my skin, fooling everyone but those who count. It doesn't fool her; it doesn't fool me.

_And I learned to live half-alive. And now you want me one more time…_

I have trained myself, over a lifetime of unrequited affection, to live as though the constant hurt means nothing. I have learned to filter out every docile feeling, most often connected to Elena, and reroute all of it to a place much less dangerous. Because I am now able to survive without that humanity; I am able to coast throughout existence without any thought but that of hedonistic pleasure.

But she is searching for me. Not furtively anymore; and not physically. She is standing in front of me, brown eyes wide and pleading, begging me to "Be the better man". She wants me to offer a chance to the world; to become that which I have so painstakingly shed.

_Who do you think you are? Running 'round, leaving scars; Collecting your jar of hearts; And tearing love apart._

But I have tried. I released her from my bonds when I compelled her to forget my love. I sacrificed the sliver of hope that I kept hidden in my heart, and I pushed her back into my brother's arms. All to ensure that she continued to survive, guiltless with regards to my feelings.

It didn't work as it should have. She is a collector of broken hearts; an aficionado who seeks to mend them and return them in pristine condition. And no matter how many warnings she receives, she persists. She sees in me something worth saving. And although it terrifies her to continue to tread along the minefield of my heart, she does it. Out of concern for me, and the man that I once was.

_You're gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul. So don't come back for me. Who do you think you are?_

But that man may as well be dead. He has isolated himself so far below the surface of me, so far below the skin and the mask that protects; he is frozen solid and bleeding away with every passing moment. The pain attached is too much to contemplate releasing him. How could she ask that of me, knowing what it would mean? Or does she even know that much? She assumes that she is the keeper of my every thought and desire; that she is aware of all of my shortcomings and failures. But is she really?

No, she is not. Because she is ignorant of one small thing, which in turn has led her to be ignorant of such a massive piece of myself. I have denied the vulnerability that she extorts, and thus hidden away that great part of my heart that is hers alone. That part of me that isn't yet scarred and broken, but must be protected all the same. That part that yearns for her every day and every night; that part that would do anything, no matter how wonderful or reprehensible, to ensure her continued existence; that part that holds her close, and pushes her away.

And so I will hurt her, for her own protection. I will save her, by the very acts that she hates so much. I will use and abuse and hurt and be hurt, all to keep her out of harm's way.

Out of my way.


	3. How The Phantom Died

**A/N: And here is the final chapter. It was tougher than the others, but I'm pretty proud of the whole thing. Thank you very much for those who took a chance on this, admittedly abstract, piece of work. Happy reading!**

**Song from Christina Perri. Characters from LJ Smith and The CW.**

(Set after As I Lay Dying (2X22)

_Dear, it took so long just to feel alright; To remember how to put back the light in my eyes._

I was dying. I knew it and I had accepted it. What I hadn't known or accepted was that the first casualty would be the mask. As I grew weaker and weaker, from the toxins circulating through my system _en lieu_ of blood, the mask slipped and slipped until it fell, forgotten and abandoned, only to shatter into a million irretrievable pieces.

And all of the sudden, I remembered. I remembered what it was like to be whole and untarnished. I could see the world, bleary and blurred as it was becoming by my rapidly-weakening eyes, as it was meant to be seen: bright and beautiful, terrifying and terrible, but completely and entirely right.

And it was clear to me who I needed to share this discovery with; the only person who could fully and completely understand how precious this realization was; Elena.

_I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed. 'Cause you broke all your promises!_

I spent twenty four hours remembering how Katherine weaved her net around me. And rather than make me bitter, I was angry. I was overcome with a rage so intense, I wondered, in my addled state, whether I had ever truly _felt_ before.

She had taken me, as young and impressionable as I was (and I know that I was impressionable in those days, just waiting for the right influence, be they good or bad, to scoop me up and manipulate me), and moulded me into the monster that I had become. She had whispered sweet words and gentle promises to me throughout the night when we were alone. But she had whispered them to Stefan too. She had promised me an eternity together, but she had only ever meant it for Stefan. She had left us both behind, our limbs and organs cut off by her actions. We were left to rebuild ourselves into the worst that we could possibly be.

And we had.

And now, for the first time, I truly regretted ever meeting her.

And the deformed flesh began to dissipate.

_And now you're back… Well you don't get to get me back!_

But no; I cannot regret the entirety of my experience with her. Because if I had never known her, I would never have known Elena; and Elena had suddenly made all of cuts and burns well again. They wouldn't scar over, as they once had for Katherine. They would disappear by her mindful healing, and I would be made whole again. I would never again be the monster that I was.

I understood that I had earned this death. I took responsibility, as I made my escape from the cell and wandered through the town, for every person that I had killed or maimed. I took responsibility for the ripple effects. I understood, finally, that to be a vampire did not mean that I was a monster. I had done that all on my own.

And so, I would kill that beast.

_Who do you think you are? Running 'round, leaving scars; Collecting your jar of hearts; And tearing love apart._

As my mind fell apart, I saw the man that I once was, in front of me, within my reach. I could slay him; I could do away with him as I had endeavoured to do my entire after-life. Every destructive and evil action that I had taken had cut this man to the bone; had injured him to the point of death. And then, instead of recuperation, he was imprisoned.

That was my mistake. I had spent years trying to rid myself of the disease of this human creature living deep inside of me; so far below the surface of my damaged self and the mask that protected that no one but me knew that he existed. I had assumed that _it_ was separate from me. But it isn't.

Katherine had brutalised me, almost beyond repair. But I was the one who kept the cuts from closing. I was the one who had torn myself to pieces over her.

Elena had laboured to put me back together; to make me whole. But I was the only one who could heal the man behind the mask.

_You're gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul. So don't come back for me; Don't come back at all!_

In the dimness setting in, something was suddenly very clear: I was at once the monster and the man. And now was the moment to see who would survive. I knew that my life was ending, but I could go out one of two ways.

Elena was there, as she always was. She had ropes binding my head and my heart, and now she was here, with her arms around me, taking me somewhere _safe_; taking me _home_. And I had seen what the monster could do; I had seen how Rose had tormented Elena, if only for a short while; I had seen myself torment her. And now, the chained man inside was fighting to protect the fragile girl whose only goal was to be my salvation.

As I fell deeper and deeper into insanity, the battle inside of my mind played out in front of my eyes. I was dimly aware of a warm body pressed against my own; comforting words whispered in my ear. But what I was seeing was anything but comforting; I saw the man, growing stronger and stronger as time wore on, facing off against the monster. I saw in the monster the demon that I had become; I saw myself as others saw me; perverted and warped; horrifying and disgusting. I couldn't blame Elena for not loving me; there was nothing there to love. I was a black hole; absorbing others' feelings but never able to reflect them back.

I watched the monster growing frantic as my body was coated in sheets of sweat. But in his desperation to continue his hold on my soul, he grew stronger. I felt the man dwindling away again. And then, something magical happened.

A part of my mind was aware that I was speaking.

_I know you love Stefan. And it will always be Stefan. But I love you. You should know that._

_I do._

I was expressing all of the thoughts that I had had throughout the day. I knew I was fading fast, and it was desperately important that someone know that I was saved, or that I could be saved.

_You should have met me in 1864. You would have liked me._

_I like you now. Just the way you are._

And the moment those words spilled past her lips, the tide turned. I was reinvigorated; I wanted to earn that pronouncement.

And then she kissed me. Her lips pressed against mine chastely, and when she had pulled away, I thanked her. She doesn't know why I thanked her. It wasn't for the symbol; it wasn't for her affection. At the demonstration of her trust and faith in me, I won. I killed the monster. And I thanked her for that; for releasing me from the bonds that I myself had created.

_Who do you think you are?_

I survived, regenerated and whole.

I am not the monster.

I am Damon.


End file.
